


When they are both full grown

by cidercupcakes (musicforswimming)



Category: American Girls Books - Various Authors
Genre: American Revolution, F/M, Historical, Snow and Ice, Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicforswimming/pseuds/cidercupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It was the Year of Our Lord 1784, though not for much longer, for it was the seventh day of Christmas, New Year's Eve. There were no letters, which came as no surprise but as a disappointment anyway."</p>
            </blockquote>





	When they are both full grown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boosette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boosette/gifts).



Nan and Mother were already hard at work when she left that morning, Mother kneading the bread before its first rise and Nan beating the batter for cake, and Felicity found that she was a little envious. War's scarcity had made cakes rare, and the shop's demands had made herself rare, so she had been recruited less often to such tasks. There were no voices in the room, but there was no silence, either, only the clatter of work and the movement of bodies, Mother grunting as she pounded the bread and Nan panting a little with the first efforts of beating. The morning was still dim, on this side of the house.

She almost hated to break the silence, and kept her voice low as she bid them good-bye for the day, so that she could not break the sweet, warm spell of the day's beginning: there were few enough sweetnesses and warmths these days, and winter had only just begun besides.

It was the Year of Our Lord 1784, though not for much longer, for it was the seventh day of Christmas, New Year's Eve. There were no letters, which came as no surprise but as a disappointment anyway. The sky was low and gray, the clouds so thick one could hardly have guessed where the sun might have been at all; she had supposed it would rain and remembered to wear her cloak this morning, but no rain had come thus far. It only grew colder still, and now, as the fine clock on the wall clicked and ticked its way across the minutes, she wondered whether it might not yet snow, even so early in the season.

There had been a letter from Elizabeth last week -- a miraculous thing indeed, for it was generally agreed upon as a shame that the Merrimans continued their acquaintance with such folk. They were kept from suspicion for it first by their long years and good (if not fine) standing, and second by the grave in the Bruton Parish Churchyard, but disapproval hung about the acquaintance like smoke above a battlefield and Felicity was surprised that more people hadn't taken it upon themselves to protect her from such sordid influences by the means of not delivering her post.

_I have lately been Married but you probably have not heard of it and whether you will even hear of it now is in doubt, I guess, with the post so uncertain. He is a fine Gentleman &amp; we are very Happy &amp; my Mama is very Happy &amp; my only sorrow is that my dear Lissie could not be there with me. But I guess you must needs have ridden Patriot to get here and even such a fine Beast as he should cause some trouble with his name so maybe it was all the best it could be! With Article Ten there is no telling whether we will stay in America or move on to Canada, or yet back to England, but I shall write you as many Letters as my hand will allow to make sure that you know._

Since Papa's last -- which she tucked now inside of Elizabeth's, for it must be protected, placing both in the box -- there had been fewer letters than ever before. Ben's had stopped last year, and when his mama sent word that she had heard nothing either, Felicity had tried to give the matter up.

But these days there was always news of the ----- Company sent home from this state or the ----- Regiment from that. Felicity had stopped throwing the door open as soon as she heard the news of more of General Washington's men returning. The open door brought in the bugs in the summer and the cold in the winter, after all, and never any faces but those she saw every day.

Footsteps now, on the step of the door, and Felicity roused herself, put on her smile, and opened her mouth. "Good day," she began, as the door was thrown open, and she could go no further, for there he stood, skinny and scarred, hair ragged and clothes worse.

"Felicity," Ben began, and then tamed the smile that had dashed across his face. "Miss Merriman -- is it Miss Merriman still?" he asked.

_Felicity Miss Merriman -- recv'd your news, and I find I have no words, your family has only my greatest Sympathy and Love -- if it will aid you in this time to have me keep my Promise, be assured that I shall, for the debt I owe your Father and your Family..._

"It is," she told him, because she did not have to consider it, and found herself childlike again, unable to keep still. Felicity's hands were on her skirts, smoothing them, and then doing the same with her hair. She was aware suddenly that she had not worn her cap, for how could such thin fabric keep her warm? "_Ben,_" she said, and the name was hardly more than a breath.

"Ben," she said again, but her voice had caught up and it might have been the bells of Bruton Parish ringing Christmas -- for the ringing of victory after Yorktown had not been so sweet after all, without him here. "We thought -- "

"It's a long story," he said, and then laughed a little at himself. She noticed how his own hands seemed to have taken on their own will, how they tugged at his jacket. Her eye, skilled at these things after years of helping Mother, saw that his clothes were all clean, however shabby they might be called in any other wise.

"It is well, then, that you will have lots of time to tell me -- for though you made your promises to my father, sir, I expect you to keep them still -- " The mentions of Father had stopped stinging in the three years since his death. Felicity found, however, that she couldn't bring herself to say anything of the other jokes of 'promises' that had passed between them: the words melted like snowflakes on her tongue. For once she could not joke, and yet she could hardly say that it was because she had no merriment in her.

Her feet, it seemed, still had a life of their own even now that she had grown a little and learned to control them. They had brought her out onto the floor, had brought her only a few inches from him. Her mouth, too, seemed possessed of its own independence; already her face ached with her smile.

And then her arms were about him, though she had to stand on her toes for the embrace. "Ben," she said again, and again, "oh, _Ben_ \-- " and his arms were around her with that.

"Lissie," he whispered, his breath warm on her ear. She opened her eyes and saw that everything had become a little clouded through the windows, realized after a moment that snow had begun to swirl down.

There had been no sign of the sun all day. The light was not as bright as it would have been with the sun, but it came, silvery, from every corner of the sky.


End file.
